


Five Times Rhodey Wants to Touch Tony's Hair

by SierraNovembr



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Get Together, M/M, Pining, Pining Rhodey, Tony Stark Bingo 2020, fluffy like tony stark's hair, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SierraNovembr/pseuds/SierraNovembr
Summary: ...and one time he does.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Comments: 26
Kudos: 270
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Five Times Rhodey Wants to Touch Tony's Hair

**Author's Note:**

> For copy/pasting ease of the Bingo Mods:
> 
> Title: Five Times Rhodey Wants to Touch Tony's Hair  
> Collaborator Name: SierraNovembr  
> TSB Card Number: 3065  
> TSB Square Filled: A2: James Rhodes/War Machine  
> Ship/Main Pairing: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark  
> Rating: Gen  
> Major Tags: Fluff, 5+1 Things  
> Word Count: 1925

They go to Hawaii for Spring Break. It’s a compromise between Rhodey’s desire for the beach and Tony’s desire not to make it easy on the tabloids who expect him to hit Florida hard this year, the first that he is legally allowed to drink. The resort is private and tranquil, and Rhodey can spend six whole days with a fruity, umbrella-festooned drink in his hand, and forget about the dry desert of Edwards AFB for a while.

They get in late, and other than an impromptu dip in the pool in the private suite, they waste no time in crashing into bed.

Rhodey’s up first, his regular sleep schedule means he’s always more susceptible to jet-lag than Tony. He’s already made coffee, finished a mango smoothie, and gotten a start on some leisure reading when Tony stumbles out onto their balcony. 

Rhodey stops breathing.

Tony’s in his swim trunks already, tanned chest still showing crease lines from the sheets, and he’s blinking adorably in the bright morning sunshine, but that’s no more arresting than usual. No, what has Rhodey actually fearing for his health is Tony’s hair.

Rhodey knows, intellectually, that Tony has curly hair. It’s on the relaxed, wavy side of things, though, so mostly he doesn’t categorize it that way. There’s no mistaking it now though. Piled up on his head are the most distinctive, _adorable_ ringlet curls Rhodey has ever seen.

Rhodey is worried he’s going to have to actually sit on his own hands. Restraining his desire to touch Tony is nothing new after so many years, but this has taken him by surprise.

“Curls,” Rhodey manages to choke out.

Tony huffs out a sound that is part laugh, part resigned sigh and raises his hand to his head. “Yeah, it’s the humidity.” He grins, a bit soft, a bit boyish, and Rhodey feels his heart lurch an inch to the left in his chest.

* * *

It’s late when Rhodey wakes up on his parents’ couch. He’s blaming his mother’s heavy hand on the eggnog, if anyone asks. He smiles and rubs his cheek on the couch. There’s a Christmas movie playing on the TV, something black and white and therefore not Home Alone, which was playing when he fell asleep some time ago. Tony is settled on the floor in front of him, back resting near enough that Rhodey can reach out and touch his shoulder.

Tony hums and leans into the touch. Rhodey trails his hand over to Tony’s neck and up, but he pulls away abruptly, leaving Rhodey’s hand hanging awkwardly off the side of the couch.

“Thpbh?” Rhodey asks. Apparently his mouth isn’t up to producing English just yet. Tony understands him anyway; of course he does.

“Can’t touch my hair, platypus.”

Rhodey blinks in the dim, flickering light of the television, but he eventually notices the multitude of tiny braids worked into Tony’s hair. It had grown longer over the months since they had last seen each other, and Rhodey had wanted to tease when he’d first seen Tony, but it had gotten stuck in his throat. Along with so many other things he hasn’t managed to say to the man yet.

“Jenna?” Rhodey asks. Of course his sister had gotten to Tony. She’d always treated him as a combination older sibling and life-size Ken doll, and Tony, starved as he was for familial affection, would sooner stab himself than refuse her.

“If you mess them up, she’s going to kill you. And then me. And then you again.” Tony turned and patted Rhodey’s still awkwardly outstretched hand, before tucking it back under Rhodey’s blanket. 

Rhodey would have sworn he hadn’t managed to grab a blanket before passing out earlier.

* * *

The helicopter’s blades are still kicking up the sand, but Rhodey lifts his goggles anyway. It’s irrational, but he has to _see_ Tony. He’s running to where the figure is kneeling, leaning like he’s going to fall over any moment. Rhodey’s feet keep slipping around underneath him. He feels awkward and slow, and it’s too much like the dreams he’s had too often in the last three months - Tony is right there and Rhodey _can’t get to him_ fast enough.

But it’s not a dream, and reality reasserts itself in the form of his squad members trudging on either side of him. He can’t throw himself at Tony, even after so long. They have an audience. Rhodey wracks his brain and settles on a joke. It works, momentarily, to keep a casual distance between them, until the smile spreads across Tony’s face.

Seeing it steals Rhodey’s knees out from under him and he goes down in the sand in front of Tony. He’s close enough now to see some of the horrors of his captivity written on his skin. He’s bleeding and burned, but Rhodey still slips an arm around him, tugs him close when Tony all but collapses. He presses his face against the rough fabric of the jacket Tony’s got wrapped around his head and feels his throat close up. He wants to rip the stupid thing off Tony, really look at him. He wants to put his hands on every inch of the man in his arms, from his lank, unwashed hair to the toes stuffed in his ill-fitting boots. Wants to convince himself that Tony’s really here. Rhodey closes his eyes and reminds himself that he can’t cry.

His sergeant tries to get his attention and Rhodey swears under his breath. Anger sparks in his stomach, but he can’t give in to that either.

“Next time you ride with me,” he repeats, before hauling Tony up into his arms and heading back to the chopper.

* * *

The limo door shuts behind them and it’s finally quiet. Rhodey sighs and stretches his fingers out on the soft leather of the seat beside him. They’re sore from how much of the evening he’s spent clenching his fists. The gala organizers are lucky he didn't hit any of the idiots clamoring for Tony’s attention. 

Tony echoes his sigh and starts the process of shedding the persona of Tony Stark. He loosens his tie and runs his fingers through his hair. Rhodey reminds himself not to stare, not to reach out and help Tony find his way back to himself.

“Are people actually getting stupider or am I just too old for this shit?” Rhodey gripes.

Tony laughs. “You and me both, geezer.”

Rhodey smacks lightly at his shoulder, and Tony tumbles back to sprawl in the seat. He’s still smiling when he turns to meet Rhodey’s gaze. “I think we’re too old to keep playing this game with each other, honeycakes.”

Tony’s eyes are so soft. He stares at Rhodey, no hint of the challenge that Rhodey had often imagined, when he’d let his fantasies get this far, just fondness and welcome, and he knows. Rhodey knows that this is it. The years and decades pile up in his chest until it’s so tight with feeling that he can barely breathe.

He reaches out to touch Tony’s hair, but Tony’s quick to grab his outstretched fingers. He brings them to his lips, and Rhodey remembers to breathe all at once, gasping at the feeling of Tony kissing him. 

Rhodey slides across the seat, and Tony’s there to meet him. All at once, the man he’s loved for so long is in his arms. Rhodey’s hands lock around Tony’s waist and then Tony is _kissing him_.

Tony tastes like salt from some canapé or other, and he moans happily when Rhodey licks into his mouth, chases the taste, the sensation of Tony.

* * *

Jenna told him, back at the beginning of the _process_ that was planning a Stark wedding, that he could either have a perfect wedding or he could enjoy it. Since she beat him to the altar by a good decade, for all that she was his baby sister, and was still married to boot, he hadn’t been of a mind to doubt her. 

It’s only half past noon on his wedding day, with the ceremony not scheduled until 3:00pm, and he’d thrown “perfect” out the mental window hours ago. He’s starting to genuinely worry about the “enjoy” part.

He’s just gotten Mama settled with a drink, and far away from Uncle Albert, when he nearly runs into Tony in the hallway. 

“Lemondrop! Wow, you - ” He grins and backs up several steps to give Rhodey a slow once-over. Rhodey shifts under the attention, just a little. He’s normally perfectly comfortable in his mess dress uniform, but something about the energy of the day has him fidgety and just a little itchy.

“You look amazing,” Tony finally breathes.

“ _You_ look amazing,” Rhodey responds, and it’s true. Tony’s already dressed too, practically sewn into his classic black tuxedo. Rhodey notices the hints of Iron Man red and gold in the lining of his jacket and bowtie. His hair has the minimal amount of product to make it behave, and it is so soft and inviting, Rhodey reaches out for it without thinking.

Tony twists gracefully away before Rhodey manages to touch him. “Nope! No touchy. Natasha got me spiffed up and if you manage to dislodge a single hair, she’s going to kill you. And then me.”

“And then me again,” Rhodey answers. “Jenna may have said similar things to me regarding your attraction to the uniform.”

“Why do we have so many violent women in our lives, platypus?”

Rhodey laughs, feeling his nerves settle out a little. He doesn’t know about the superstition against seeing the spouse before the wedding - this little exchange with Tony was exactly what he needed right now.

“Jimmy!” 

Rhodey winces at his mother’s shout. “Speak of the devil.”

Tony laughs and leans forward with his lips pushed out in an exaggerated pucker. Rhodey presses a kiss to them, careful not to touch his husband-to-be anywhere else. “See you soon, honey.”

* * *

They honeymoon in the Maldives. The island is gorgeous, tranquil and private. It’s an upgrade from Hawaii, but then Tony has done well for himself all these years. Not to mention the world.

Iron Man and War Machine are on patrol along the coastline, and Rhodey watches the stress of the last far too long melt out of his husband’s shoulders. It’s late afternoon, and it’s a cozy sort of hot, even on the spacious shaded balcony. Rhodey stretches out on the plush couch and beckons Tony over, wasting no time pulling him into his arms as soon as he’s in grabbing range. Tony hums happily, wriggles around to get himself comfortable, and pecks a kiss on Rhodey’s nose.

He holds Tony there, breathing deeply, pulling the scent of his husband into his chest. The waves roll steadily in to crash on the sand and the susurrus and the comfort of the man next to him send Rhodey to sleep.

Tony shakes him awake a few hours later to enjoy the glorious orange and red sunset. He’s managed to procure chocolate-covered strawberries and they feed each other fruit while trading kisses.

Chocolate definitely tastes better off his husband’s lips. 

Rhodey pulls back to stare at him some more, because he can, and laughs when he realizes the effect the humidity is having on Tony’s hair once again.

“What?”

Rhodey reaches out and runs his fingers through Tony’s hair. It’s soft, and downright irresistible. He brings his other hand up as well. “Curls,” Rhodey answers.

Tony melts into the petting like a giant cat, and Rhodey can’t help whispering, “I love you.”


End file.
